


On A Prayer

by TheGirlWhoHeldOn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cheesy, Crying, Crying Castiel, Diners, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Food, Heaven's Civil War, Human Castiel, Hunter Castiel, Love Confessions, M/M, Memories, Prayer, Song - Freeform, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Supportive Sam, Team Free Will, a Garth Brooks song is mentioned, a teeny tiny itty bitty gross description of food be warned, so cheesy, what do you expect it's dean eating, woah thats a tag cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2150250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoHeldOn/pseuds/TheGirlWhoHeldOn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song comes on the radio at a diner and changes Dean and Castiel's relationship forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> Random fluff with a bit of angst to bring my spirits up. If there's mistakes sorry I'm tired and I just needed to post this. Comment if I made any mistakes and I'll fix them

_On a prayer, in a song_  
 _I hear your voice and_  
 _It keeps me hanging on_  
 _Raining down_  
 _Against the wind_  
 _I'm reaching out till_  
 _We reach the circle's end_  
 _When you come_  
 _Back to me again_  
  
-'When You Come Back To Me Again', Garth Brooks

The diner was practically abandoned. Maybe it was because it was seven o’clock on a Sunday night; maybe it was because one of the occupants would stare at people until they were so uncomfortable they had to leave. Who knew why?

Either way, the three men appreciated the nearly abandoned diner. It was kind of relaxing that the hunters didn’t have to constantly check if someone was listening to what they were saying. It also made sure they had great service too.

“That was an easy one huh?” Dean asked about fifteen minutes after they were seated. The conversation between them had just died, and never one for silence Dean had to fill it. Not only did he fill the quiet with voice, but he also filled it with crunches and chews. First he began to devour the French fries on his plate, occasionally dipping them in some condiment or taking a bite of his hamburger. He ate as if it was his last meal.

It was a messy sight. Both Sam and Cas couldn’t help but watch. The angel looked on with curiosity and the brother looked on with his mouth twisted with disgust.

“Yep, it was. I’m actually surprised how easy it was to gank that ghost.” Sam finally answered after a few seconds. His eyes eventually left his brother’s face and he started eating from his own plate. He was pointedly delicate and dainty with his salad.

Castiel ate and said nothing. Later on, when he was back in his hotel room, he would snack on the groceries he brought with him to the small town they were in. So for now he looked on at the boys as he patiently waited for them to finish. He sat there quietly, half of his mind on the Winchester and rest of him pondering _everything else._

He normally did this, sitting quietly and thinking at meal times. Normally with a meal in front of him and a smile on his face.

This time, however, was different in every way.

His new humanity starting to weigh on him. He could handle sleeping and eating and emptying himself. The emotions that constantly felt were harder to cope with. He had felt emotions before of course, but he had always felt detached from them. If he didn’t like them he could just push them down. Now he had no choice but to feel them. And oh how much did he felt them. They made his body ache and tremble in new ways and they made his mind race. He both hated them and kind of admired them. It all depended really on the emotions he was feeling that day.

At this moment he hated them.

They were making him upset at the most inopportune moment. His eyes and lungs betrayed him as his breathing came quickly. His eyes misted over and felt as if they were flooding. Vulnerability washed over him as melancholy filled him. Why?

_Because of the song playing on the radio._

He understood to an extent that art is meant to provoke emotion, but this was _ridiculous._ A song alone should not evoke such feelings from him. Dean would be laughing so hard if he knew.

Speaking of the older Winchester, he suddenly looked up from his burger as if Castiel had called him. Ketchup lay on the side of his mouth and he was chewing a few fries when he asked, “You okay Cas?” Well, he said that but more garbled-like.

“I’m fine.” Even Cas’ _voice_ was betraying him. His flat monotone was now suddenly hitched yet rough. He felt as if there was something clogged in his throat, which was impossible because he hadn’t eaten a thing. It was just his _emotions_ once again.

“You sure? You look like you’re about to cry.” Sam asked, his voice betraying his puzzlement. Which was fair, since crying angels weren’t exactly a normal thing to see.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Castiel insisted, (he knew from Dean that that’s what you’re supposed to do when people ask you what’s wrong), “It’s just…” (that’s the part he learned from Sam)

“What?” Dean asked, looking impatient.

“This _song_ …” Castiel asked, sniffing gently. Now even his nose needed ‘part of the action’. His nose was slowly blocking off, filling up with mucus so he couldn’t breathe. Wonderful.

“What? You mean the country shit playing over the radio? Hate it that badly huh?” Dean snickered, taking a bite from his food.

“ _Dean_.” His younger brother hissed, looking at Cas with a soft look. One that said ‘ _Spill what’s in your heart onto my lap don’t worry I’ll understand and console you’_. Castiel obliged.

“The song reminds me of Dean.”

“Say what now?”

“He’s saying that a Garth Brooks song reminds him of you.” Sam explains, looking way too smug. Dean looked like he wanted to kill his brother.

“The lyrics speak of a man who has a love. The singer uses metaphors to show how lost he feels without his love, and how the love…anchors him. The love ‘keeps him hanging on’. Especially with the love using prayers and songs to communicate with the man. I think these lyrics accurately describe what I was feeling three years ago, when I was fighting the civil war in Heaven. Sometimes I felt the need to give up, but I never did when I remembered that you—and Sam—needed me.”

Dean and Sam were silent for a few seconds, and they seemed to be having a conversation through looks alone. This made a feeling stir in Castiel’s stomach but he mostly ignored it. He ignored every feeling rolling through him in favor of the Winchesters’ reactions.

A few more seconds past before Sam sighed and looked over at Castiel. “I’ll be right back,” he said gently, getting up from the booth and scurrying to the bathroom.

Castiel frowned after him in confusion, and it wasn’t until Dean made a noise that he turned back.

“So, uh…you…I was your ‘anchor’?” Dean asked.

“Yes.”

“…Was Sam an anchor too?”

“Yes, but not to the same degree. You prayed often and you said kind things when I needed it. You also came to my mind most when I was injured or tired.”

Dean coughed and scratched his neck. He looked so uncomfortable as he stared down the table under his fingers. Castiel almost regretted saying what he did. He didn’t want to annoy or upset Dean, not after the man had so graciously accepted Castiel into his family so recently. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn’t take back his words. That was the unfortunate part of being human. No time travel or future telling. Just you, your thoughts and your words.

He didn’t know how humans withstood it.

“Did-did you often get hurt?” Dean finally asked after a minute of awkward silence (at least, that’s what the Winchesters called it. Castiel didn’t understand it but he let it go as one of those human things).

“No. I was in battle only a handful of times. Only once or twice was I hurt. But it was still…difficult at times. You cannot kill or injure your brothers and sisters constantly and not be shaken. Thankfully I had your voice to guide me.”

“Why didn’t you just come see us when you were injured or tired? We would have taken care of you,” he asked, looking like he was trying to be nonchalant. It wouldn’t have worked on Sammy, but it somehow worked on Castiel.

“I was in the middle of war Dean…I wanted to but I couldn’t take the time. My siblings needed me.”

“I needed you too y’know.”

Castiel’s breath caught. They hadn’t talked about it. They hadn’t ever talked about that night in the crypt when…Dean broke the spell on the angel. They probably should have, but they never sat down and talked about it. And somehow they were getting a second chance. Castiel took it gratefully.

“I know now that you did. I needed you too. I missed your presence constantly. Unfortunately, the difficulties we were having were bigger then you and me. Sam needed you, Heaven needed me. It just wasn’t meant to be at that time.”

Dean looked like he was debating something in his mind. The war he was having inside showed. He looked so conflicted, with a large frown on his face and fries forgotten in front of him. A part of Castiel wanted to give him some of those fries, put a smile on his face and order him to forget he had said anything. He guessed it was the butterflies in his stomach that wanted him to do that. But he had control for now, and he was going to see this through.

“…Is…” Dean began, playing with the silver ring on his finger, “Is it meant to be…now?”

Castiel tilted his head, the tiniest of smiles on his face. He hoped Dean was having the same feeling he was at the moment. If he didn’t, then he was probably going to throw up those butterflies.

Castiel took a small breath.

“Since you eventually came back to me, then I would say it was meant to be at this moment of time.”

Dean smiled. Yes, he was feeling the same thing that Castiel was.


End file.
